Starlet, Harlot, Queen Of Coney Island

His body moved against yours with a precision that bordered on cruelty, each thrust calculated to extract exactly the reaction he wanted from you. Andrew's fingers dug deep into your thighs, keeping them open and vulnerable as he buried himself deeper, in a rhythm that oscillated between frenzy and torturous slowness.

"So tasty..." his voice came out rough against your ear, warm. "All mine... only mine..."

You arched your back, your nails scratching his broad back in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself to something as pleasure threatened to dismantle every bone in your body. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, like a curse, like everything and nothing at the same time. Andrew Cody was a man who occupied every space: the room, the bed, your breath, and your soul.

You could smell both of you in the air, hear the slapping sound of skin colliding, and the blunt tip of his heavy, swollen member pressing against your deepest, most needy spot. Your thighs trembled and you felt your orifice contract from the sheer pleasure the man was giving you. You rolled your eyes as the nails of your right hand scratched Andrew's muscular shoulders.

"Ah! Ah! FUCK!" your voice was hoarse, completely surrendered and delivered to the moment. Your lubrication dripped and stained the sheet that Cody would clean later in that obsessive ritual he had, but now nothing mattered. For Andrew, having you underneath him, a crying, delicious mess, was all that mattered, while your dripping vagina squeezed his turgid member.

Andrew's large hands slid from your thigh to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh that bounced with each thrust. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with pleasure as his curls bobbed hanging over his forehead. God, you were so hot and he loved you, loved you more than anything in the world.

You moaned loudly and squeezed Andrew, pleasure building at the base of your belly. You didn't even care anymore if Andrew's brothers or mother heard your scandal, all that mattered was how well he was fucking you.

"Touch me... Touch me... Andy"

And, like the good little dog he was, Andrew obeyed. He moved his hands from your breasts down your waist, squeezing your soft, warm skin, moaning when you arched at the touch, your movements erratic as he touched you with such devotion.

His hand flattened on your abdomen, his thick cock entering and exiting you, exploring and claiming your being from the inside. Andrew bit his lips, moaning at your delicious, needy sounds.

Then his palm kept sliding down to your mons pubis, where it was warm and exploratory, his fingers caressing your swollen clit, drooling from your own obscenity. When Cody's finger touched that little spot and you squeezed him brutally, he almost came inside you.

"Fuck, darling... Like that I'm going to come" he complained weakly, trying to control his breathing as you writhed. The older man's molasses eyes watched you, gripping the sheets beside your head, tangled locks and sweat dripping down your forehead. He wanted to lick you all over, but not now. Now he wanted to feel your insides contracting, sucking his dripping member inside you, he wanted you to beg for his cum.

"So tasty, I'm so lucky... Fuck" Cody was in ecstasy, his fingers making skillful movements on your clit. You screamed and tried to close your legs again, receiving once more the sting of a reprimanding slap.

"Open for me, angel... Open wide..."

He thrust harder, holding your hips as he fucked you senseless. Both of your orgasms approaching.

Andrew's body granted you no truce. Every movement, every hot breath against the back of your neck, every muffled grunt against the curve of your shoulder was a declaration of war and surrender at the same time. He kept you there, caged between his arms and the mattress, as if the outside world had ceased to exist and only that bubble of sweat, skin, and desire mattered.

You felt his weight, the solidity of muscles that contracted under your palms as your nails scratched anywhere they could reach, trying to find some point of support. With each thrust, the air escaped your lungs in a hoarse moan, his name getting lost in your throat like a prayer or a curse, nothing more than an inevitable recognition that Andrew Cody had destroyed you and rebuilt you within that bed, within that room, within that moment that seemed eternal.

"Beautiful..." his voice came out rough against your ear, warm and wet, his lips brushing your sensitive skin as he spoke. "All mine... only mine..."

The words penetrated deeper than his own body, echoing in every fiber of your being as you arched your back, your breasts pressing against the broad, sweaty chest of the man who dominated you. Both of your breaths were an offbeat rhythm, a symphony of sighs and moans that filled the room, mingling with the wet, obscene sound of bodies meeting.

Andrew moved against you with a precision that bordered on cruelty, each thrust calculated to extract exactly the reaction he wanted from you. His thick fingers dug deep into your thighs, keeping them open and vulnerable as he buried himself deeper, in a rhythm that oscillated between frenzy and torturous slowness. He studied you, watched every contraction of your face, every tremor that ran through your body, and adjusted his movement to prolong the pleasure, to take you to the limit and keep you there, suspended between need and fulfillment.

– Fuck... Like that! D-don't stop... Andrew... – you rolled your eyes with your mouth open in a needy gasp, your head thrown back against the pillow, your hair spread out like a halo of dark, damp strands. Your body trembled, your thighs squeezing his flanks in an involuntary reflex, and you felt your inner walls contract around the member that filled you, an involuntary squeeze that pulled a deep, guttural grunt from him.

"Like that, love... Like that..." Andrew murmured against your neck, his warm lips tracing a wet path from your jaw to your shoulder, where he softly bit your skin, only to then lick the spot as an apology. "You squeeze so good... You drive me crazy, you know that? This needy little pussy swallowing me... God, it's paradise."

His thumb brushed the already hardened nipple of your bouncing breast, twisting it with a pressure that made you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, your nails now digging into Andrew's scalp. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with pleasure as dark curls fell over his sweaty forehead. God, you were so hot, and he loved you, loved you more than anything in the world.

"Damn, dear... You, fuck..." he said breathlessly, panting and surrendered, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that grew faster, more desperate. His swollen, drooling member pulsed with every movement, and you could feel the blunt tip pressing constantly against your deepest spot, the place only he could reach, the place that made your vision blur and your legs tremble.

Andrew's free hand extended beside your head, giving him support as he moved, his muscular, sweaty body looming over you like a protective and possessive shadow. Every fiber of him was taut, every muscle defined beneath skin glistening with sweat, and you could feel his heart beating against yours, an accelerated rhythm that echoed your own.

"Feel that, love?" he murmured, his voice low and rough, his eyes fixed on the point where your bodies met. "Feel how well you fit? How deep I am inside you?"

His hand over your pubic mound, where the skin was warm and damp. His fingers found the protrusion of your swollen clit again and you held your breath as he began to caress the spot, circular and precise movements that made your legs tremble and your body arch like a bow.

You screamed and tried to close your legs, pleasure building like a wave about to break, but Andrew was faster. A reprimanding slap cracked against your thigh, the sharp pain mingling with pleasure and making you gasp.

His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into the flesh as he thrust senselessly, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that was pure need. Each thrust was a declaration, each grunt a poem, and you could feel the orgasm approaching like an out-of-control train, pleasure building at the base of your belly until it overflowed.

"Andy... Andy, please..." you begged, your voice broken, your eyes teary with pleasure. "Please, don't stop... I'm going to..."

"Go, love... Go..." he encouraged, his fingers pressing your clit harder, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming frantic. "I want to feel you come, I want to feel you squeeze me... I want to fill you, love... I want to fill you with cum..."

The words were the trigger. Your body arched into a perfect bow, a hoarse cry escaping your lips as the orgasm overtook you, waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of your being. Your inner walls contracted around Andrew's member, squeezing him in a warm, wet embrace that pulled a deep, guttural moan from him.

"That's it, love... That's it..." he groaned, his body tense, muscles contracting as he buried himself one last time, as deep as he could go. You felt his member pulse inside you, felt the hot, thick jet spread inside you, filling you with a sensation of fullness that made you cry out. "Fuck... Fuck, love... So good... Ah..."

His body surrendered, collapsing onto yours in a warm, sweaty weight. Both of your ragged breaths filled the room, mingling with the silence that followed, a silence full of affection and satisfaction. Andrew buried his face in your neck, his lips brushing your sensitive skin as he murmured disconnected words, mixtures of praise and declarations of love that you could barely understand.

"You're so perfect..." he whispered, his voice muffled against your skin. "So beautiful, so delicious... My angel, my love..."

His hands found yours, interlacing fingers as he remained inside you, reluctant to separate. Both of your breaths were beginning to calm, your heart rates gradually slowing, but the contact between your bodies remained intimate, a silent promise that that moment wouldn't end there.

"Andy..." you murmured, your voice hoarse and tired, your fingers squeezing his. "You're so good... to me..."

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race again. A soft smile curved his lips, and he leaned in to kiss you, a slow, deep kiss that said more than any words could express.

"I love you" he said against your lips, his voice full of a sincerity that made you tremble. "Love you more than anything, you know that?"

You smiled, your fingers releasing his to caress his face, tracing the line of his jaw and the contour of his lips. Your body still vibrated with the residual waves of the orgasm, but there was something more in that moment, something that transcended the physical and touched the core of your being.

"Love you too" you replied, your voice low but firm. "More than anything."

He smiled, a wide, genuine smile that lit up his face and made your heart tighten with love. He leaned in to kiss you again, but this time the kiss was different, softer, slower, a caress rather than a declaration of desire.

When you finally parted, Andrew was still inside you, his body warm and heavy, a comforting presence that made you feel safe and loved. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, his breathing slowly calming.

"I don't want to leave you" Andrew murmured, his voice low and lazy. "I want to stay here forever."

You laughed softly, your fingers playing with his damp curls, brushing the strands from his forehead.

"Then stay."

He smiled, a sleepy, satisfied smile, and you felt his body relax against yours, his weight becoming a sensation of security rather than oppression. The room around you was a mess of wrinkled sheets, clothes thrown on the floor, and the air still carried the smell of sex and sweat, but neither of you cared.

Andrew's hand slid down your belly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your still sweat-damp skin. He seemed completely surrendered, sated, his body relaxed against yours as his breathing grew slower and deeper.

"You were so good to me" he whispered, his voice almost asleep.

You laughed, your hand sliding to caress his broad back, feeling his muscles relax under your fingers.

"The best boy" you confirmed, your voice full of affection.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours in a look that was pure adoration. He leaned in to kiss you, a kiss that was at once a promise and a declaration, and when you parted, he was smiling.

"I love you" Andrew said again.

"I love you too" you replied.

He nestled into your neck, his body snuggling against yours, and you felt your eyes grow heavy, the exhaustion of pleasure and emotion enveloping you like a warm blanket.

Before falling asleep, you heard him murmur something against your skin, words you could barely understand, but that touched your heart like music.

Smurf slaps him, "We're not killing a girl you had on your fuckin' payroll. The people at Lena's school know her because you can't raise your own fuckin' kid. So you're gonna listen to me about your daughter."

Baz snarls and walks to the other side of the kitchen.

"This is such bullshit. Just cos Pope is all heart eyes for her? Not like you, Smurf, to get sentimental," he says.

Smurf bares her teeth like a wild animal.

"We don't kill women because we lose our temper. Get the fuck out of my house," she hisses.

Smurf finds you later, after you've brought Lena for ice cream. She pouts at the cuts on your face.

"Lena, why don't you go to the pool?" Smurf suggests as the little one runs off.

"Now, sweetheart, I can't let you go back to Baz's house. Not after what he did to you. But Lena needs someone to take care of her. I was thinking you could move in here to help me with her," she said, fixing your hair.

You frown. You don't trust Smurf. You've known so many women like her. But you also know not to get on your bad side. Thankfully Pope comes to your rescue, stepping into the kitchen. He puts an arm around your waist.

"She's moving in with me, Smurf," he says in a tone that doesn't leave room for argument.

"And what about Lena?" Smurf asks. "Baz clearly can't take care of his own daughter."

You shake your head, "No. I'll still nanny for her. I just won't be a live in nanny. I...maybe I could take her instead of Baz's? If that's not overstepping. She just loves being with you Smurf. She is always talking about you and the pool!"

Smurf smiles at you, her eyes narrowing for a moment. She's not an idiot. But she'll allow it. You're making Andrew happy.

"Of course, sweetheart," she says softly. "You can sleep here with Lena when Baz isn't around. I think that's for the best."

You smile and nod your head, "Of course, I think that would be perfect. She needs a strong woman in her life now that her mother is...gone."

Later as you sit in Pope's truck, you look at him, "Are you sure you want me to move in with you?"

He sniffs, "Where else are you gonna go? Not back to Baz."

You roll your eyes, "Ain't you romantic?"

But you like living with Pope. He always makes you breakfast in the morning, telling you that you need to start your day with food rather than running on coffee for hours. He likes having you here as well. Pope can't sleep. But with the weight of you on his chest, he sleeps like a baby. Although on the nights he can't, he can wake you up with rough hands and soft kisses.

You adore that as well. Pope could spend hours eating you out, just drowning in your pussy. He makes you cum over and over and over. Until you have to pull him up and away from you. And he'll look at you with his eyes almost black. If he's not between your legs, he's at your tits, kissing and palming at them for hours on end. You don't even think it's sexual anymore, it's like a comfort for him. A soother... And if that's what Andrew needs you give it to him.

But you adore when he's inside you. Hard and deep, slamming his hips against yours. He manhandles you, having you in breeding press, kissing you desperately. Or he'll flip you onto your stomach, you love how he fucks you prone bone. Sometimes he'll hook his thick bicep around your neck, making your eyes roll back on your head. You love riding him on the couch after a long day.

When you stay at Smurf's you tell him sex is off the table. You know she's listening. But Pope can't keep his hands off of you. And Smurf isn't an idiot, she sees how Pope hangs on your every word. So after a few months of you living between her home and Pope's, she does some digging into your background.

You're folding laundry in the kitchen when Smurf approaches you.

"Hey baby," she coos, calling you the name she reserves for her sons and grandson. "Where did you say you grew up?"

You look up at her and smile.

"I didn't, Smurf. But I grew up the other side of San Diego. But I haven't been back since I was eighteen. I started applying for au pair jobs in my senior year of high school," you explain. "So I left a few days after graduation."

Smurf hums, "And no one cared about your time in juvenile detention?"

You freeze and look up at her.

"My records were sealed after I turned eighteen," you tell her. "So no one needs to know."

"I have my people...and my people found that you did 18 months for robbery and breaking and entering," she says with a hum. "Must have been tough for your foster family."

You twist your mouth in annoyance. You hate talking about your past.

"Yes, Smurf. I grew up in foster care. CPS took me away when I was eight. I was still cute then, got a nice foster family," you say with a shrug. "But then they got pregnant. Triplets! And I was thirteen and starting to act out. So I went back to foster care. Bounced around families for a while. You know how many foster dads are creeps?"

You scrub your hand over your face.

"So I learned how to pickpocket. I just wanted enough money so I could get an apartment. I made friends with a few of the rich kids in the area. And I'd case their places when they weren't around. One of their parents found me. I thought they were on a trip...Her dad was a lawyer so I was screwed."

You look at Smurf, "Is that a problem?"

Smurf smiles at you and pulls you in for a hug.

"Oh baby, you're perfect."

You're not stupid. You are very aware how to Cody family get their money. You're not there for the meetings or the jobs, of course. And you like to play dumb for Smurf, although you're sure she can see through you. But both of you play this game, pretending you don't know what the other one knows. And she likes you like this. Still pliant to her.

You know when the boys are doing a job because Smurf will give you the day off. She'll keep Lena in the house. And you will wait patiently for Pope to come home. It is always a variant on the same theme when he finally walks in the door of your now shared home. Sometimes he will take you desperately, needing to be buried inside you. He'll push you onto hands and knees or press you into the couch and just bury his weeping cock in you with rough, angry thrusts. Other times, you can see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes and he'll kiss you desperately. He'll slowly rock his hips against yours, hiding his face in your neck as you can feel soft sobs rack his body. Sometimes, rarely, he's happy. It's gone well, and sex is soft and smooth and gentle.

One day you're fixing Lena's hair and you overhear Baz talking to Smurf.

"People who have nannies have money," he tells her. "You said she used to do this shit. Why can't she scope out a few places for us? Even just fuckin' job interviews. I don't know. Babysitting gigs so it's not too permenant."

You can hear Smurf take a sharp intake of breath, "We only do jobs with people in the family."

You can practically hear Baz's eyeroll at that.

"She's not doing the job she's just-"

Pope cuts him off, "We're not involving her in this. She doesn't need to be a part of this shit."

"What Pope?" Baz suddenly snaps causing Lena to flinch next to you. "You think you can just run off with her into the sunset? You're sick in the head, man. And soon she'll fuckin' see that. She's gonna drain your wallet and then leave you."

On the drive home, you can tell that Pope is withdrawn. You can see the gears in his head working overtime. You hate that Baz can get to him like that. You reach out and run your fingers through his curls but he flinches away from you. You try not to let it affect you. You know it's Baz and his family who have worked their way under his skin. But still, Pope has never been upset with something you've done.

You make him dinner in silence. Pope likes the quiet but when he finally looks up at you, he sees the hurt etched across your face.

"I'm sorry," he gruffs out. "I just...Baz always says shit like that. Says how I'm weird and I'm not weird."

"No baby, you're not weird," you soothe, stroking his knuckle with your thumb.

"I just...You know...With my family, it's hard. I don't know Smurf was never a proper mother to us. First time I saw someone die I was six. She used have sex with these men in front of me and Julia. And we just thought all o' that was normal. And she likes...She likes when I'm angry. I know she wants to keep me angry. But I don't want to be angry. I want a normal life."

He take a deep breath, "But I don't know how to be normal. I wanna be normal for you. I really do. I don't wanna be Smurf's muscle or Baz's fuckin' punchline."

You look at him, watching the tears roll down his freckled cheeks. You brush each away with soft kisses to his flushed skin. You just want to take him away from this, from his family, from Oceanside.

"Baz thinks no one would wanna be with me. That you'll leave. He thinks no one will settle down and have a baby with me," he sobs.

This makes you pause.

"I wanna have a baby with you, Andrew," you tell him ever so gently.

His eyes flick up to yours as if assessing the situation. Were you being serious? A baby...with him?

"You wanna have a baby with me?" he echoes.

You nod your head, pulling him in for a desperate and messy kiss. You moan against his lips which is enough to have Andrew Cody gripping your hips and lifting you onto his lap. Your hips work on their own rolling against his thick thigh, your skirt bunching up around your waist as as your grind on him. Your clit bumps over the rough fabric of his jeans under the cotton of your panties. But Pope never breaks this kiss.

"Put a baby in me, Andrew, please," you beg desperately.

"You needa cum first," he responds.

It's like you can do it on command because after a handful more rocks of your hips you're soaking his thigh. He grunts out in appreciation and then grips the meat of your ass to lift you onto the table.

He falls to his knees, pulling your panties down your legs. His eyes zero in on your sopping wet cunt that is clenching around the air desperate for him. He doesn't give you a second before he starts eating you out. Pope loves giving you head, could (and has) spent hours between your legs. But today he is on a mission. He zeros in on your clit, sucking and slurping desperately. He knows exactly how to pull you apart and he does in record time. You come undone over his tongue to his satisification. He moans out into your cunt. He could cum from this as well, but he can't. Not when you've asked him so sweetly to put a baby in you.

Finally he stands, unbuckling his belt so he can push his jeans and boxers his thick cock finally free. It rests heavy against his black t-shirt that he still hasn't taken off. But he's desperate for you. And getting you pregnant is his number one priority. He presses inside you in one fluid motion. He doesn't let you adjust. He just splits you open. He's worked you over so well, he slips in without an issue. And then he's off to the races.

He hooks your knees over his forearms, spreading you wide and he slams into you. His heavy balls slam against your ass as he fucks you.

"Gonna put a baby in ya. Gonna see you so fuckin' full. And I ain't ever gonna let you leave," he grunts in your ear.

His words go straight to your cunt and you honestly don't know how many times you cum over his cock until he stutters to a stop. Thick walls of cum coat your walls. But he doesn't pull out. He just presses his weight on you for a few minutes. Your chests heaving in time with one another.

When he eventually moves, he presses two thick fingers inside you.

"Can't waste it. Not when I gotta get you pregnant."

And Pope takes his job very seriously. Every morning and every night he's inside you. If you're free in the afternoon, he pounces. If the two of you are alone he's fucking you. And you love it.

"Is Pope tryna eat you?" Deran asks as you sit by the pool in a bikini that showcases all the hickies Pope has left on your body. There are bruises in the shape of his fingers as well around your hips, ass and even the hint of them on your neck.

You roll your eyes at him.

"Don't be jealous cos you're hard up," you say before jumping in the pool and splashing him.

Out of all of Pope's family, you like Deran the best. If Pope's not around, you usually cling to him. He also has a short fuse for Baz's bullshit. Which is ongoing in the kitchen right now.

"Are we still paying her?" he snaps at Smurf who is counting out cash.

Smurf's eyes flick up, "You hired her because you couldn't take care of your daughter. So yes. We are."

"Well she's not doing a good job is she."

Pope grabs a beer from the fridge, "Lena's at school. You'd know if you spent any time with your kid."

He storms out to the backyard with Baz hot on his heels.

"You think you're a big man now cos you're getting your dick wet?" Baz snarls.

Pope doesn't respond as he watches you in the water.

"I mean, it looks like she'll spread her legs for any of us. Number three is right there," Baz says, nodding to where you and Deran are in the pool.

This catches Pope's attention. He turns and looks at Baz then.

"What's that supposed to mean?" his growls, his whole face darkening.

"You think she was living in my house, with me and not givin' it up? Come on. I'm a hot blooded man! You were always obsessed with my sloppy seconds. Ri-"

But Baz doesn't get to finish his sentence before Pope lunges. Pope is on top of him, landing punch after punch. But Baz is sly and digs him in the ribs. Smurf hears the commotion and comes to watch by the door. You're jumping out of the pool immediately.

Smurf sees you and sighs, "That's enough boys."

Usually her word is law but they're too caught up in the fight to hear anything.

"Andrew, that's enough," you bark.

Pope slams Baz onto the concrete once more before hauling himself off him. He reaches for your hand and drags you back to his car. You can get your stuff later, he grumbles. Smurf's eyes narrow as she watches you. It looks like you have your claws in her eldest boy deeper than she thought.

Of course, Smurf doesn't do anything right away. But she'll have to get Andrew away from you. She thought you simply calmed him down. But if he listens to you over her that's not good.

You can sense that something has shifted with Smurf. But you're not dumb enough to delve into that. No you play dumb. Act like nothing has happened.

"When's you're birthday, Smurf?" you ask her one evening as you help her with dinner. "I doubt your boys ever spoil you. And you do so much for them. They should bring you out for dinner."

Smurf smiles, "That's sweet but I like cooking for them."

You sigh as you watch J, Deran and Craig outside.

"I hope I'm half the mother you are. I mean, Pope talks about you all the time. How you worked so hard for him and Julia as a single mother. And in the seventies, that can't have been easy," you coo.

Smurf freezes for a millisecond, too quick to even notice. Unless you're watching...and you are.

"Does Pope talk about his sister?" she asks tightly.

You nod your head as you throw cherry tomatoes in the salad.

"Oh yes, all the time. Such a beautiful name. Maybe if I'm ever blessed with a girl I'll call her Julia. Maybe Julia Janine...JJ! So sweet," you say before carrying the salad out to the table.

Smurf stabs her knife into the cutting board. Oh she fucking hates you.

In the months that follow, you can feel the tension rising in the house. Not just between you and Smurf. But something has happened between her and Baz. You're not sure what and you're not stupid enough to ask.

One evening you're sitting by the pool on Pope's lap. You're nursing a Coke after dinner wondering when you can go home.

"Baby, do you want a real drink?" Smurf asks you as she sips on her vodka cranberry. It's rare she doesn't have one in her hand.

You flush at the question ducking your head before shaking it quickly. Pope is grinning ear from ear.

"Smurf, I can't," you say as Pope presses a thick hand over your stomach.

A few weeks ago, you had woken up feeling...well...like shit. You pulled up your calendar and realised that you were late. Your period was due almost a fortnight ago. But yours was nowhere to be seen. You immediately ran (literally) to the store. You shoulda bought pregnancy tests but you didn't wanna jinx it.

When Pope found you almost an hour later crying tears of joy as you looked at the two little lines on the stick, he couldn't stop himself from crying. You both had your own worries and didn't want to share until you were over the first trimester. But now, at almost fourteen weeks pregnant you decided to share with the rest of the Cody family.

You could see Smurf's face immediately brighten. Yea, she didn't like how you had gotten your claws into her baby boy. But a baby? Well, Smurf loved babies. So she rushed over to kiss both you and Pope.

"You should move back in here, baby," she cooed at Pope.

He shook his head, "Not with the parties, Smurf. A baby needs sleep and not to get into Craig's coke stash."

Craig frowned, but he couldn't argue.

The only person who wasn't happy was Baz. Which you expected. He was rarely at the house these days. And when he was it usually ended in a fight between him and Smurf. J had become a little lap dog for Baz. And you hated that. But it wasn't your place to get involved.

Since announcing your pregnancy, things between you and Smurf thawed. She brought you shopping for baby stuff. Even though you didn't want to be in her debt. But sometimes you liked to be mothered...it had been so long. So you let her brush your hair when you were too tired and make you herbal tea and even slept over when Pope was away on jobs.

You sit, cradling your now swollen stomach, as Smurf tells you about Julia. How she couldn't take care of her when she was pregnant with J. Everyone who talks about Julia tells you a different story. Pope talks about her like she hung the moon, J speaks about a sad, ghost of a woman outcast from her family and Smurf? Well, Smurf talks about a problem child. A bad apple intent on spoiling the bunch.

You're not sure if it's not just the tree that is poison.

But you let Smurf dote on you because you're not stupid. You want to keep her on side. Not like Baz...Baz has seemingly been outcast from the family. Lena is always with Smurf and her father is spending less and less time here.

Pope tells you one night in bed as he strokes your growing belly that he has a mistress in Mexico. That he plans on taking Lena and going to start a new life down there.

"With whose money?" you ask, your eyes flicking up to Pope.

Has Baz been stealing from Smurf? You don't doubt that he has enough money of his own. But you always know that Smurf has a majority of the funds.

They have enough to live very comfortably on. But nothing too crazy. But you don't argue about that.

One night, Pope is out with Craig and Deran. It's not like him, but you tell him to spend more time with his brothers. It's okay. You know he doesn't like parties or loud spaces. But sometimes they just drink in the back of Deran's bar. And you want him to have that connection again. Especially after losing Baz.

Even though you don't know good of a friend and brother Baz was to him. Pope tells you about Baz and Julia's relationship. How he could be J's father. How he fell for Cath when they were teenagers but Baz took her too. How he didn't want to lose anything else to Baz.

"You won't lose me or the baby to him. I promise," you whisper.

So when you hear the door to the house open you presume it's Pope. You hum, shifting in your bed to give him room to join you. But Pope's footsteps are almost silent and these? Well, these are not. You try not to move, hoping whoever it is will just steal some shit and go. They won't try the bedrooms.

But you recognise those footsteps as they come closer and closer. You know it's Baz. And he's not here for petty theft. You lean across the bed to Pope's side and pull open the drawer of his bedside locker. You're trying not to make noise as you fumble in the dark for what you're looking for.

But it doesn't matter because Barry Blackwell has been in Pope's shitty little beachfront condo before. He knows where the bedroom is and he knows where he'll find Pope's girl. He's known that Pope killed Cath. Even though he knows that Smurf put him up to it, it was Pope who did it. And now he can do the same to Pope.

An eye for an eye.

The baby is just the cherry on top of the cake. Baz should care that by killing you, he'll also be ending the life of his brother's unborn child. But he doesn't really care. He slams the door open making you jump.

"Pope isn't here," you tell him, feigning ignorance.

You blink, pretending that you've just woken up.

"That's okay. He doesn't need to be," Baz says as he stands in the door frame. "You know, Lena loves you. She loves when you take her to the beach and that you've taught her how to swim. Craig's got her her own surfboard now."

You smile and nod, sitting up in the bed. You stroke your baby bump, showing it off to Baz as if to remind him that you're just a woman. A pregnant woman. A soon-to-be mother.

"So it's really going to hurt her feelings when she finds out her uncle murdered you," he tuts.

You freeze at this. He's going to frame Pope?

Of course, he is. Pope already has a violent record. The police won't even question it when Baz calls it in. Because he will. He's an upstanding citizen. And when Lena's nanny who got involved with his mentally unwell brother doesn't show up for work, he'll get worried. He'll call the cops. He might even cry.

Smurf'll be pissed but hell, he might kill her too while he's at it. Pope went on a spree. How fun!

"Don't do this," you beg through tears.

Baz shrugs as he takes a step forward. You try to stay brave, strong. But fuck you're scared. But you look at the man who has only ever made your life worse since he came into it in the eyes as you pull Pope's gun from under the covers. You point it straight at his face.

He gives you that shit eating grin. That pretty boy bullshit smile. He thinks he can get away with this. But he can't. He won't.

And you pull the trigger.

You don't expect it to be so loud. Your neighbours definitely heard. You don't expect the blood spray either. It's messy. But you had no choice. You couldn't fight him hand to hand.

You get out of bed, wiping down the gun with your nightie and immediately getting in the shower. You wash off all evidence of Baz from you and change into Pope's t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You drive to the bar you know the Cody brothers are at. You smile at the patrons and pat your stomach.

But when Pope sees you, he knows something is wrong. He soothes you, tells you that you did everything right. Deran and Craig stand behind him as they look at their older brother's now dead body. You know they all loved him. But he was a monster.

"I took Lena's father away," you whisper. "But he was gonna kill me. He was gonna kill us."

Pope presses a hand to your stomach.

"Take her somewhere," he tells Deran. "We need to clean this up."

Deran brings you to his place, to his boyfriend (although you have to pretend he's just a friend), Adrian. He tells him that someone tried to break in and you're freaked out.

"Why not bring her to Smurf?" Adrian asks as you sit looking at the blank wall.

Deran just shakes his head before leaving.

You don't know when Pope comes to get you. But you go home with him. He gets you into the bath, soothing out your muscles.

"I've never done that before," you finally confess.

"And you won't have to do it again, baby," he promises as he massages your neck.

"We're gonna go. We're gonna leave Oceanside. Craig went to Baz's place and found where he's stashed Smurf's money. We're gonna take our share and go. With Lena," he promises.

"She won't let us," you respond.

Pope presses kisses into your hair.

"She doesn't have a choice," he responds gently.

Smurf believes Pope when he tells her that Baz has run off to Mexico.

"And left Lena?" she tuts and shakes her head. "Typical."

She knew it was his plan so why would she look into it any further? What she doesn't expect however, is less than a month later is to wake up and find Lena's bedroom empty.

She rushes to call you. But the phoneline is disconnected. Pope's is too. She calls Deran and Craig who shrug. They don't know where you've gone.

And while they know that you were leaving. Helped you get everything in order, you never told them where you were going.

"Where are we going, Uncle Pope?" Lena asks from the backseat of a car you jacked.

"Somewhere safe," is all he responds, as he rests his hand on your blossoming stomach.

a/n: thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! any and all feedback appreciated. requests open

taglist: @sweetashhh @orangecheescakeleftover @elenamoncadaibarra @joelmillrenthusiast @abbotaes @onlyforyuto @meetmeatyourworst 

You watch your reflection closely in the mirror as you apply one last coat of mascara.

Tonight there was a reunion event for Brendon’s graduating class from medical school. 

You had seen the invitation in the mail and insisted he go and see some familiar faces. And also throw around some bragging rights as the one of the east coast’s top orthopedic surgeons.

After some top tier convincing, he finally agreed but only if you went with him. Now it was you who had to be convinced.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 

"𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘰."

"𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘤'𝘮𝘰𝘯," 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 "𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘥𝘰."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 "𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯..."

"𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦?" 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺

"𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘴𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘩'𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘢'𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺."

𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴.

"𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦."

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 "𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰."

𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

"𝘞𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘰" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Brendon watches you get ready from the doorway of the bathroom. If he could stare at you all day long he would.

When he met you, you were the fresh faced nurse starting out in the pitt.

It only took him overhearing you talk about your interest in orthopedics once for him to fight day shift tooth and nail for you.

With a promise to Robby that he would watch out for you, you were moved to orthopedics.

You were brilliant and young, eight years younger than him and completely out of his league.

You still were out of his league now.

Yet as soon as he asked you out for the first time back then, you immediately said yes.

He often worried with the age gap people would have things to say. That those words would drive you to be with someone closer to your age.

Even though you always reassured him that would never be the case, you both agreed to keep things under wraps at work and discreetly out in public.

You never minded, only wanting to ease his mind. You’d do anything for him

Brendon was glad to have you on his arm tonight but he still worried just a tad that you’d catch the eye of someone who may try to steal you away.

—-

You and Brendon walk into the event room, your hand holding onto his bicep.

“Wow..” you say looking around at the beauty and decor of the room “it’s gorgeous in here.”

Brendon’s gaze lingers on you as you admire the space “Yeah, sure is.”

You turn your head and catch him staring, rolling your eyes with a smile.

He chuckles at your reaction as you both make your way to the bar.

“Hey! Look who it is! If it isn’t Park!”

The voice makes you both turn your heads.

To the right of the bar in a seating area towards the back are a few guys, all smiles as they wave in your direction.

Brendon waves back as he leans close to you.

“Some guys I studied and hung out with most of the time in med school.” he whispers

He gently leads you towards them.

A taller guy greets you guys first when you get closer.

“Well well well if it isn’t Pennsylvania’s most sought after ortho surgeon” he smiles and then his gaze turns to you.

“Well hello there, and you are?”

You smile politely and introduce yourself.

“You a doctor too, sweet stuff?” 

Brendon’s hackles go up at the flirtatious tone and pet name.

“No, I’m a nurse for orthopedics at ptmc with Brendon.” you share

The guy briefly glances at you and Brendon and notices your intertwined hands.

A giant smirk works its way on his face.

“Ohhh shit! Guys!” he grabs the attention of the other men sitting close “Our buddy here brought his O.R. nurse and girlfriend!”

Your face warms in slight embarrassment from the attention as all the men start whistling and yelling at the introduction.

Brendon’s hand moves from yours to your waist, pulling you close.

A waiter walks by and offers you both drinks.

Thank god.

You both needed one.

Brendon grabs a whiskey and you grab a wine glass.

The friend closest to you guys beckons you over to sit.

Casual conversation flows and Brendon adds in here and there, glad that the attention is off of you.

Or so he thought.

Brendon glances around the group subtly and notices a few of the guys eyeing you and looking you up and down, not so subtly.

His jaw clenches at how they unashamedly stare and gawk at you.

“Hey baby,” he whispers to you “could you grab me another drink? Maybe a snack we can split?”

You smile at him and kiss his cheek quickly.

“Yeah of course. Be right back, baby.”

He watches you as you walk off and turns back to the guys and sees they’re also watching you walk away.

“Yo Park, your girl is fine as fuck” one guy says with his eyes still on you in the distance.

Brendon’s composure is slowly crumbling.

“Yeah,” another guy chimes in “if I had her in my O.R.? Shit, not a damn thing would be getting done except for her.”

The man breaks into a fit of laughter as the other guys high five him and agree.

Brendon frowns at the jokes being made, gripping his thigh hard to keep from decking the men.

He doesn’t like the idea of anyone else having you. 

You're his.

—--

On the other side of the room you're grabbing new drinks.

It’s like you can feel his brooding attitude from across the room.

You turn to look for him and you see the irritation clear across his face as he swirls the whiskey around in his cup.

After the bartender hands you the drinks you make your way back to him.

His buddies quickly glance at you as you walk past, not being discreet enough with their comments about you.

“Fuck, the things I’d do if I had her.”

“She could have anyone and she chooses old man over here.”

“I bet he had to pay her to be here. No way she’s actually dating him.”

The smiling assholes aren’t subtle when they say it and it’s clear that Brendon hears it too when his frown gets even worse.

Luckily you can squash the talk and reassure Brendon all at once.

Brendon is sitting on a leather couch. So you place your left leg between his and then place your right knee on the cushion on the outside of his leg.

The placement has you practically straddling his thigh with your dress riding up dangerously high.

Brendon must notice because his hands grab your ass and hold you closer to him, shielding what’s only his to see.

“Hey baby” you greet him sweetly.

He gives you a “hey”, frown still in place.

You lean in closer so your mouth is right by his ear.

“I know what they’re saying, Bren. You also know that none of it is true. As far as I’m concerned,” you whisper “they’re not the ones who get me in their O.R. every day. You do.”

Your hand makes its way to the back of his head where you lightly scratch through his hair.

A weakness of his.

“They’re also not the ones who are gonna get to fuck me at the end of the night. You are. So, how about you turn that frown upside down and we go home to our own party?”

You hear his breath hitch at your words and a slight groan escapes him.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah let’s fucking do that” he grits out “But can we wait a few minutes?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the question.

“I mean yeah but wh-” 

Your words are cut off as he pulls you flush against him. 

More so against his hard cock.

“Aaah okay baby” you laugh a little.

“Thanks sweetheart.” he groans as he leans his head back against the couch.

—-

Unbeknownst to you both, your audience had watched the interaction with rapt attention.

Eventually they all had silently slipped away to collect themselves and let their jealousy spill over elsewhere.

You made it clear you were Brendon’s and they had finally gotten the message.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・